One order of the explodescow son.
The lady will be having pig livings bowel, followed by some cowboy meat. Oh, could she get the small or medium bowl?
And for dessert, we'll add a peaceful.
Saturday, January 27, 2007
May I take your order?
One order of the explodescow son.
The lady will be having pig livings bowel, followed by some cowboy meat. Oh, could she get the small or medium bowl?
And for dessert, we'll add a peaceful.
Thursday, January 25, 2007
JJA #5 - Basic Training
Well, I first have to start with one more thing that should have been included in the Reception Post.
My very first Army photo. They take this photo before you even get to basic training, which I find odd, because alot of people drop out, so it should really be a graduation photo. Not only that but some folks lose ALOT of weight in Basic Training, so the picture just becomes a reminder of the pitiful excuse of a human being you were before you got all strong and manly and fit.
Anywho, here it is.
(click to enlarge)
The thing I remember about this morning is that they woke us up around 5 AM, shaved our head, then lined us up for the picture. The other funny thing is that the dress uniform has velcro in the back, so I walked up to the photographer in my jeans (I hadn't even gotten my Army issue clothes at this point), they slapped the uniform over my torso, plopped a hat on my head, and took a snap.
If I recall, I actually tried to smile, because I was feeling grumpy from waking up so early. I guess it didn't help much.
Anyway, on to Basic Training.
In the movies, you see fresh recruits get off a bus, and start to get immediately harrassed by their drill sergeants. I don't remember (big surprise) my first contact. I don't think it was as explosive as the movies, though.
I had the unfortunate displeasure of having 3 drill sergeants. Most of the platoons had just 2, but our class was the last for one drill sergeant, and the first for another. So, to help the new drill sergeant transition in to his new role, they had him in a platoon where one drill sergeant was "retiring".
Being a drill sergeant is a very tough job. They have to be up and perfect when they wake you up at 5 AM, and they are with you until 9 or 10 at night. The standard rotation for a drill sergeant is 2 years. Generally, the Army singles out people it thinks would do well in the position, and asks them to go through the Drill Sergeant school. Yes, there is a school for it. You have the option of refusing, but the refusal goes on your record, and it's not good for your career. Also, drill sergeants get a cool little patch that they can wear on their uniform for the rest of their Army career, so you can readily pick out the people who are or who have ever been a drill sergeant.
Back to BT.
One of the DSs was from Trinidad. This was bad, because no-one could understand his instructions. He would shout something, then we would look at each other in a panic, and start doing just something so we wouldn't look like we weren't trying. Also, it was only several years later that I actually learned the correct words to the cadences he would sing. We just mumbly shouted whatever syllabic approximations we thought he said without actually understanding anything. It was quite humorous.
Anyway, one of the first things they had us do was to learn their names. I remember we were in the barracks, in the "front leaning rest position" (that is basically the up position of a push up, except you just stay there not doing push ups) trying to shout their names in unison. Now, we couldn't all see each other, because there was a row of lockers in the middle of the barracks bay, so we just had to coordinate and eventually say their names in unison, loudly. I don't remember how long it took for us to get it. This was just the first of the mental torture devices they imposed on us.
More next time.
PS
Before you ask...no, its not done yet.
My very first Army photo. They take this photo before you even get to basic training, which I find odd, because alot of people drop out, so it should really be a graduation photo. Not only that but some folks lose ALOT of weight in Basic Training, so the picture just becomes a reminder of the pitiful excuse of a human being you were before you got all strong and manly and fit.
Anywho, here it is.
(click to enlarge)
The thing I remember about this morning is that they woke us up around 5 AM, shaved our head, then lined us up for the picture. The other funny thing is that the dress uniform has velcro in the back, so I walked up to the photographer in my jeans (I hadn't even gotten my Army issue clothes at this point), they slapped the uniform over my torso, plopped a hat on my head, and took a snap.
If I recall, I actually tried to smile, because I was feeling grumpy from waking up so early. I guess it didn't help much.
Anyway, on to Basic Training.
In the movies, you see fresh recruits get off a bus, and start to get immediately harrassed by their drill sergeants. I don't remember (big surprise) my first contact. I don't think it was as explosive as the movies, though.
I had the unfortunate displeasure of having 3 drill sergeants. Most of the platoons had just 2, but our class was the last for one drill sergeant, and the first for another. So, to help the new drill sergeant transition in to his new role, they had him in a platoon where one drill sergeant was "retiring".
Being a drill sergeant is a very tough job. They have to be up and perfect when they wake you up at 5 AM, and they are with you until 9 or 10 at night. The standard rotation for a drill sergeant is 2 years. Generally, the Army singles out people it thinks would do well in the position, and asks them to go through the Drill Sergeant school. Yes, there is a school for it. You have the option of refusing, but the refusal goes on your record, and it's not good for your career. Also, drill sergeants get a cool little patch that they can wear on their uniform for the rest of their Army career, so you can readily pick out the people who are or who have ever been a drill sergeant.
Back to BT.
One of the DSs was from Trinidad. This was bad, because no-one could understand his instructions. He would shout something, then we would look at each other in a panic, and start doing just something so we wouldn't look like we weren't trying. Also, it was only several years later that I actually learned the correct words to the cadences he would sing. We just mumbly shouted whatever syllabic approximations we thought he said without actually understanding anything. It was quite humorous.
Anyway, one of the first things they had us do was to learn their names. I remember we were in the barracks, in the "front leaning rest position" (that is basically the up position of a push up, except you just stay there not doing push ups) trying to shout their names in unison. Now, we couldn't all see each other, because there was a row of lockers in the middle of the barracks bay, so we just had to coordinate and eventually say their names in unison, loudly. I don't remember how long it took for us to get it. This was just the first of the mental torture devices they imposed on us.
More next time.
PS
Before you ask...no, its not done yet.
Monday, January 15, 2007
The light at the end of the tunnel
The painting is finally done. All of the cleanup is done as well. The living room has its final set of furniture. Now all that's left is to reorganize everything that we dumped on the dining room table to clear out the living room. That and hooking up the TV. I hope I remember how, because it was quite complicated. Well, at least we can sit on our couch in the living room, that the table is clear enough for the the kids to have breakfast. Time for these paint spackled hands to go to bed. And yes, its really 1:15 Monday morning.
Yawn.
Yawn.
Sunday, January 07, 2007
The mice again...
No, this isn't about our cute mouse, its about our pesky mice.
After my last round with the mice, I still heard scritching.
I set traps, and I set out the big glue boards, but the mice were too smart for me. I heard scritching without seeing dead mice in my traps.
Just this past weekend, I bought glue trays (as opposed to boards) with some mouse bait already in them. The bait were these little seed looking things.
I caught 4 mice in 2 days.
I haven't heard anymore scritching.
After my last round with the mice, I still heard scritching.
I set traps, and I set out the big glue boards, but the mice were too smart for me. I heard scritching without seeing dead mice in my traps.
Just this past weekend, I bought glue trays (as opposed to boards) with some mouse bait already in them. The bait were these little seed looking things.
I caught 4 mice in 2 days.
I haven't heard anymore scritching.
Saturday, January 06, 2007
Ikea
I know, the Mrs already blogged about it, but I have to give my take. I was totally impressed with the whole shopping experience. I can't believe I am going to say this, but when I walked in, I actually WANTED to buy furniture!
They had happy music playing.
We could check our kids into the playland so we could shop unhindered.
They had little pencils, paper, and tear-off rulers everywhere so that you could write down what you wanted.
They had pre-done demo rooms that you could walk through, and see how an all Ikea room would look.
And my favorite part...food. I didn't get the name "Chow Boy" in the Army for nothing. I really like my food.
They had a little cafe where you could get some Swedish meatballs with gravy and Lingonberry sauce. They had a store where you can take home a taste of Sweden.
It was their attention to detail not only in the shopping experience that impressed me so much, but it was also the attention to detail in putting the furniture together.
Everything fit. Perfectly.
No wiggling or jiggling. It just fit together like it was supposed to.
So, we are definitely going back.
The only thing I found mildly unsettling was keeping the Swedish names for everything.
So I found myself talking about Billy and Tromsö and Malm.
Whew! I think that should catch me up on blogging!
P.S.
I know two Swedish tongue twisters. I met a girl from Sweden, and she taught me two of them. I have this habit of forcing foreigners to teach me a tongue twister in their language. Perhaps that will be the subject of a future blog post...
They had happy music playing.
We could check our kids into the playland so we could shop unhindered.
They had little pencils, paper, and tear-off rulers everywhere so that you could write down what you wanted.
They had pre-done demo rooms that you could walk through, and see how an all Ikea room would look.
And my favorite part...food. I didn't get the name "Chow Boy" in the Army for nothing. I really like my food.
They had a little cafe where you could get some Swedish meatballs with gravy and Lingonberry sauce. They had a store where you can take home a taste of Sweden.
It was their attention to detail not only in the shopping experience that impressed me so much, but it was also the attention to detail in putting the furniture together.
Everything fit. Perfectly.
No wiggling or jiggling. It just fit together like it was supposed to.
So, we are definitely going back.
The only thing I found mildly unsettling was keeping the Swedish names for everything.
So I found myself talking about Billy and Tromsö and Malm.
Whew! I think that should catch me up on blogging!
P.S.
I know two Swedish tongue twisters. I met a girl from Sweden, and she taught me two of them. I have this habit of forcing foreigners to teach me a tongue twister in their language. Perhaps that will be the subject of a future blog post...
Tree Goats
These guys are for real (that is, not photoshopped). I guess there were no mountains around to climb.
If you...
If you give a woman an entertainment center, she'll want to get rid of the bookcase that the TV is sitting on.
If she gets rid of the bookcase, she'll want to buy new bookcases to put the books on.
If she buys new bookcases, then she'll want to reorganize the whole living room.
If she reorganizes the living room, she'll want to get rid of another couch, and the other bookcase.
If she gets rid of the bookcase and couch the living room, there is no longer space to hide art supplies behind.
If she needs a place to put her art supplies, she'll want to reorganize her art room.
If she reorganizes her art room, she needs to move an old desk and give it to The Boy.
If she gives the desk to The Boy, she needs to buy a loft bed, and a larger dresser, and bookshelves.
If she buys furniture for The Boy, she needs to clean the basement to put some of his old furniture.
If she cleans the basement, she needs to move the drum set.
While cleaning the basement, she finds some paint to repaint the living room.
If she paints the living room, she'll want to take down the old brown paneling cleverly disguised as a blue wall.
If she takes down the brown paneling, she'll want drywall to cover up the crappy plaster wall that the brown paneling was diguising in the first place.
If she needs to drywall the wall, she'll need to move the piano.
If she moves the piano, then she can move the couch.
If she moves the couch, then she can paint the new entertainment center.
If she paints the entertainment center, then she can put the TV on it.
And you wonder why I havent blogged on my vacation :)
(Credit goes to Laura Numeroff for the "If you give a" line.)
If she gets rid of the bookcase, she'll want to buy new bookcases to put the books on.
If she buys new bookcases, then she'll want to reorganize the whole living room.
If she reorganizes the living room, she'll want to get rid of another couch, and the other bookcase.
If she gets rid of the bookcase and couch the living room, there is no longer space to hide art supplies behind.
If she needs a place to put her art supplies, she'll want to reorganize her art room.
If she reorganizes her art room, she needs to move an old desk and give it to The Boy.
If she gives the desk to The Boy, she needs to buy a loft bed, and a larger dresser, and bookshelves.
If she buys furniture for The Boy, she needs to clean the basement to put some of his old furniture.
If she cleans the basement, she needs to move the drum set.
While cleaning the basement, she finds some paint to repaint the living room.
If she paints the living room, she'll want to take down the old brown paneling cleverly disguised as a blue wall.
If she takes down the brown paneling, she'll want drywall to cover up the crappy plaster wall that the brown paneling was diguising in the first place.
If she needs to drywall the wall, she'll need to move the piano.
If she moves the piano, then she can move the couch.
If she moves the couch, then she can paint the new entertainment center.
If she paints the entertainment center, then she can put the TV on it.
And you wonder why I havent blogged on my vacation :)
(Credit goes to Laura Numeroff for the "If you give a" line.)
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